


The Perceived Path

by Corycides



Series: Pygmalion [2]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Multi, Uncle/Niece Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Miles Matheson wanted was to drink himself to death in peace, but when his nephew Danny came to ask for his help saving his sister...he couldn't say no. Only it didn't go so well. Now he's a prisoner and Charlie isn't so keep on being rescued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perceived Path

'Charlie!' Danny exclaimed, lurching to his feet. Heavy shackles hung from his bony wrists, rattling as he moved. 'You're all right.'

'Better than you,' Charlie said, voice gone snuffly with tears. She ran over to hug her brother, knuckles digging into the wings of his shoulder blades. 'I missed you.'

'Me too.' He rested his chin on her head, something he'd only been able to do for the last year. Old habits made her listen to him breath, trying to feel it through his lanky body. There was a whistle-catch in his chest, but he wasn't wheezing or gasping. 'I was going to rescue you. It didn't work too well.'

Guilt tugged at Charlie. She stepped back, wincing and touching the stippled bruise on the side of his face. 

'It'll be OK from now on.' She put her arm around his waist and helped him over to the narrow cot. It creaked under his weight. 'You won't be in here long.'

He caught her wrist. 'You mean you've got a way to get out?' he whispered, darting his eyes to the doors. He always had been about as subtle as a brick; they had been grounded than enough thanks to his poker face. 'That's great, but we have to get Uncle Miles first. He came with me, he's amazing.'

Charlie brushed his shock of sun-bleached hair back from his brow, fingers catching in the stiff tangles. 'So I've heard.'

***

His shoulders ached and his mouth was stuffed with cotton wool. In Miles experience, waking up like that meant your day wasn't going to get any better. He licked gummy lips and squinted his eyes open.

The toes of a pair of polished black boots filled his vision. That didn't bode well. He lifted his head, grimacing at the crackle of his neck, and stared at his oldest friend. Bass leant against his desk, sipping a glass of whisky idly and reading reports as he waited for him to wake up.

'Apparently the kid choked,' Bass said, as if they'd been in the middle of a conversation already. 'You used to train them better than that.'

Miles tested the ropes. He didn't hold out much hope – Bass wasn't an amateur – and sure enough there was no give. 

'He's my nephew,' he said. 'Not a recruit. Bass, we don't have to do this.'

Bass tossed the report aside and smiled. 'I don't have to do this,' he said, gesturing lazily at Miles. 'Your options are a bit more limited.'

Someone tapped the door, a polite but familiar three raps. It hurt Miles that there was so much about Bass that he remembered. So much from before.

'Come in,' Bass said, standing up.

A tall, slim girl in recruit grey slid into the room. Honey-brown hair was tied back from a soft, open face with ridiculously big, blue eyes that flicked curiously to Miles.

'Is that him?' she asked. 'General Matheson?'

Bass held his hand out and she took it, tilting her body pliantly into his for a kiss. He ran his hand down her body, a slow, possessive caress that ran from her slim shoulder to the soft curve of her hip. Miles let his eyes linger too long, his cock stirring under his hard-worn jeans. It had been a long time since he'd fucked anyone sober, and the scenario was too familiar to ignore.

'That's right,' Bass said, lifting his head. He tucked a strand of the girl's hair behind her ear, casually affectionate. 'He was consorting with the resistance, planning to stage an attack on me. What should we do with him.'

The girl slanted Miles a look, something like sympathy on her face. 'Maybe he wouldn't have done it? Not when he realised-'

Bass pressed his thumb against her mouth. 'Shhhh, let's not give him too much to worry about.'

'I just want Charlie and Danny,' Miles said. He licked his lips. 'Let them go, and you can do what you like with me.'

Bass gave Miles' crotch a look. 'Looks like you'd enjoy that a little too much for it to be punishment.'

The girl squirmed and rubbed her arm. Freshly branded, still itching the arm and the conscience. 'Maybe-'

Bass grabbed her chin and made her look at him. 'He betrayed us.'

'You.'

Miles snorted with a sour amusement. For some reason Bass always did like the mouthy ones, even now when he hated being mouthed off too.

Bass squeezed, hard enough to make her rise up on her tiptoes. 'Us. The militia. The Republic.'

'Still,' the girl tried - 

Poor little cow thought she could help, Miles realised. He shifted, absently testing the ropes again, and shook his head. 'Leave it, kid,' he said. 'He's already made up his mind, this is just theatre.'

'Stay,' Bass told the girl, picking her up and putting her on the desk. He kissed her again, hand pressing between her thighs to make her squirm. 'Watch.'

Miles' hands clenched, split knuckles aching, and he shook his head. 'Bass, don't.'

'Again,' Bass said, kneeling down. 'Your options are limited here.'

Long-fingered hands tugged Miles belt off, old leather hissing through denim, and unzipped. Miles clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and trying to remind himself that he didn't want this. He didn't want Bass, not this Bass. Unfortunately, his body didn't care what Bass it was. His cock thickened as glass-cooled fingers wrapped around it, freeing it from his trousers. Hot, heavy pleasure twisted in his balls, ache spreading into the tight muscles of his thighs and belly.

'This is how you train militia now?' Miles asked through clenched teeth. A callused palm stroked his cock from base to tip, and despite his best intentions he bucked his hips up into the touch.

Bass chuckled, a low, dark sound, and repeated the gesture. His thumb scraped over the head, sending prickles of want through Miles. Fuck, he couldn't do this. The whole plan had been to avoid having to face Bass, to wanting -

'If you want an input on training – you shouldn't have left,' Bass said. His hand dipped to cradle Miles' balls, squeezing right to the line between pain and pleasure. 'You shouldn't have tried to kill me.'

The pain in his voice, the bafflement, caught in Miles chest. 'I had to. I...'

Bass looked up at him, anger and pain raw in his eyes. 'No, you didn't.' He shifted closer, shoulders budging Miles' knees apart, and took his cock in his mouth. Wet heat and the swipe of Bass' tongue dragged a ragged groan out of Miles. He flexed his hands, nails digging into his palms, and dragged his eyes away from the pale curls in his lap.

The girl was fidgeting on the desk, her hands caught between her thighs, and a flush staining her face. Her long legs were twisted together at the ankles. Fuck it, Miles thought. Why play the martyr. He could have this and afterwards...well, he'd either be dead and wouldn't have to worry about it or in a cell and he could come up with another plan.

He relaxed his thighs and shoulders, slouching back. Bass' mouth on his cock, hand on his balls and a pretty girl for later. OK, probably not, but he had a good imagination. He held those huge, blue eyes as he braced his feet and rolled his hips up into the suck of Bass' mouth.

'Bet she has nice tits,' he commented, voice ragged. 'Firm, with tight, pink nipples. Just aching for my mouth on them.'

The girl swallowed and shifted. He'd feel bad – she had tried to help him, or he thought she had – but her thighs flexed and her hand inched closer to her crotch. Her lips parted, dainty, pink tongue dabbing out, and Miles imagined it on his crotch.

'Shy though,' he said. 'Bet she's prudish.'

Bass lifted his head, letting Miles' cock slide out with a wet, obscene noise. He licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder. 

'You want a taste?' he asked.

The girl's eyes went huge at the suggestion. Miles' guessed he shouldn't be smug that people were still shit scared of him, but he was. Especially the sort of pretty girl who thought that sort of thing was sexy.

'Yeah,' he said. 'Why not.'

Miles half expected Bass to laugh, but apparently his old friend was in the mood to re-enact their greatest hits. He rolled back onto his haunches and got up, tugging the girl off the desk and into his arms. His mouth covered hers in a rough, cock-flavoured kiss, bending her back over his arms in a parody of romance. 

She didn't quail. Her hand tangled in his hair, twisting through the curls, and she kissed him back fiercely. Cock aching Miles bit his lip impatiently as he watched. Bass straightened the girl up and whispered in her ear, his fingers buried in her hair as it twisted it loose of the plait. 

He'd always been good at talking girls round. The girl, hair loose and glinting, nodded. She wriggled out of Bass' loose embrace and walked over to Miles, swinging a long, grey-clad leg over his lap. Her hands flexed against his shoulders and Bass reached around to unbutton her jacket, pulling it down her shoulders. 

Under it, she was wearing a thin, sleeveless top. She did have nice tits. Bass cupped them in his hands and kissed her neck, scraping his teeth over her pulse. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and reached down to unbutton her trousers, shoving the rough fabric down to her hips. 

Her pussy had soft curls, shades darker than her hair, that were already damp. There were love-bites on the tender inner skin of her thighs. Bass had always liked to mark his women – even before he started branding them. Not his random fucks though. This was one of his mistresses. 

'You ever fucked a legend?' Miles asked.

She tilted her head back, indicating Bass. 'In his own mind.'

Bass actually laughed as he slid his hand down over her stomach, between her legs. He opened her up with his fingers and she lowered herself onto Miles'. Tight, wet flesh sheathed him as her tight, curved bottom rested against his thighs. Bass' hand was still there, rubbing against them both.

The girl leant forwards, honey-dark hair swinging over their faces, and kissed him. Her lips were soft and her tongue quick against his, before Bass growled possessively and pulled her back. Fucking, apparently, was OK, but kissing wasn't.

Greedy bastard.

Slim fingers clenched on his shoulders, nails digging in through the worn cotton, and she moved slowly against him. Her generous mouth was tight with concentration, the corner of her lip caught between her teeth. Under the thin shirt her breasts shifted with each slow, teasing roll of her hips. 

Miles felt the ache in his arms before he realised he was struggling against the ropes again. He wanted to touch her, the tender heft of her breasts and the subtle dip of her hips. Even to feel the slide of her ribs under skin that would be pale from lack of sun.

It had been a long time since he'd let himself enjoy a woman. He didn't think he deserved it, and you couldn't let anyone get too close when you were in hiding. It wasn't quite the same hearing a beautiful woman moan your name when it wasn't your name.

'Say my name, darling,' he said.

She considered him gravely for a second. 'Miles,' she said. Bass had stepped away and she snuck another kiss, tongue flicking over his lips. 'Miles Matheson. General of the Monroe Militia.'

Bass was back, arm sliding around the girl's trim waist and mouth nuzzling against her throat. His other hand dropped and the girl stiffened, leaning forwards into Miles. Through her body Miles could feel the push of Bass' cock as he entered her and the added weight of him sandwiching the girl between them.

His cock was buried in her, her honey curls pale against the dark thatch of his groin, and when he pressed a kiss to her throat he felt the flutter of her pulse against his lips. He was so hard it ached like someone had hit him with a bat.

'Just relax,' he told her. 'It'll feel good.'

She looked dubious, biting her lip as Bass rocked his hips in slow, steady thrusts. Her hands shifted to the back of the chair to steady herself, elbows braced on his shoulders. Each time Bass thrust, she slid deeper onto Miles cock. Like being fucked and fucking all in one.

They'd done it the other way too, Bass fucking Miles or Miles fucking Bass and the girl under them both. Never before. After had been...well, everything had been different. Never seemed much point worrying what people would think.

Sweat trickled down the girl's neck, salty sweet when Miles licked it, and she was making little panting mewls of want now. Bass reached down between her legs, fingers sliding over slick flesh to her clitoris, as he moved against her back.

She dropped her head into Miles' shoulder, breath panting warm against his skin, and she came with a ragged series of soft cries. The flutter-clench of her body wrenched away the last of Miles control. He drove his hips up, frantic as a teenager, and Bass drove her back down and she was swearing against his shoulder, soft, shuddery little curse-words as after-shocks rocked through her body.

Girl had a pretty good vocabulary, Miles noted absently. He came inside her, hip-bones cracking against each other, and then it was just Bass. His hips thrusting steadily against her ass, her hands clinging to Miles throat, until they he came. 

They sprawled there, sticky and breathless, on a chair that was starting to creak under their weight. Bass was the first to move, standing back and fastening his pants. He pulled the girl off Miles and helped her when she couldn't get trembling fingers to fasten her trousers.

'Later,' he promised, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up for a kiss. 'Tonight.'

Some of the pleasure dazed look left her eyes and she nodded, pulling her hair back absently. She glanced at Miles like she was about to say something, but the mores of post threesome-fucking escaped her.

Her mouth twitched in a smile. 'General Matheson, maybe I'll see you again.' She glanced at Bass. 'If Bass doesn't kill you first.'

She let herself out, walking carefully. Bass watched her go, smiling widely. 'Pretty girl,' he said. 'Smart too. She's got a good career ahead of her. See that's your problem, Miles.'

Sprawled boneless in his chair, cock limp and wet on his though, it Miles couldn't really bring himself to care. He twisted his wrists again, in cast they'd loosened, and shrugged. 'What? That my career's behind me?'

Bass turned to look at him, face disturbing empty and watchful. He watched towns burn with that face, executions. It was was 'watching a lesson' face.

'You wanted me to let Charlie go,' he said. No. Fuck. No. Miles stared at Monroe and tried to will him silent, but he kept talking. ''But does she look like she wants to leave me?'

*******

Charlie stood in the large suite of rooms and stared down into the city. She ached a little, and she was trying not to think too much. It was Danny being here, she knew. He made her think of what it had been like before, when ignorance had been...tolerable. When she wouldn't have slept with Bass, never mind -

Her mind shied away from nailing the thought down into words. She'd done it, but even new militia Charlie wasn't entirely sure that hadn't been a fairly big sin. Dad would...do nothing. He was dead. And he'd done worse.

'Charlie?'

Rachel came in from the bedroom and pulled Charlie into a stiff hug, neither party entirely accustomed to the idea. After what felt like an appropriate time – you are my mother, but considering – she stepped back.

'Danny's here,' she said. Hope flared in Rachel's eyes, so like Danny's that Charlie felt bad squashing it. 'He's a prisoner. You need to convince him to stay.'

Tears shone in Rachel's eyes as she stepped back. 'Why would I do that?' she asked. 'So Monroe can twist him like he did you?'

Maybe he had, probably, but – 'He told me the truth, mom. More than you or Dad ever did. Bass just wants to turn the power back on, fix the world you killed.' 

'So he can rule it.'

'Someone has to,' Charlie shrugged. She stepped away from the window, feeling a batch of fresh new aches. 'Get Danny to stay, mom, because he's going to stay. It'll be easier on him if he thinks it is his idea.'


End file.
